


Promises

by CircusBones



Series: Durinisms [1]
Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Brother-Sister Relationships, Family, Family Feels, Gen, Loss, Possible Histories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 07:35:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CircusBones/pseuds/CircusBones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He made her a promise he couldn't keep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promises

**Author's Note:**

> I admit that my dwarf lore is hazy and in need of a reread, but for a simple bit of feels, I don’t think I missed much. I did kind of forget about Frerin though, and hate myself for it XD Ah well, he'll show up in my other fics. Slightly more movie-leaning as far as timelines.

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She'd always clung.

Mind, she'd never been a needy or weak girl by any means, his sister. Dis was headstrong and hard and wanted for no man. She did, no less, cling to the ones she had.

When Erebor had fallen his little sister had shrieked for him, running to him, leaping into his arms and clinging onto his neck for many miles of their retreat. When he and their father and grandfather had marched on Moria, a somewhat older girl had begged, wept and pleaded with them not to go. Erebor's fall had been an early and sharp memory, the loss of nearly all whom she knew scarring her deeply when she was little more than a child. Perhaps keeping her as close as they did didn't help her recover from such a wound to the soul. But Thorin knew his father had clung to her in his way as well, his last treasure, his girl, kept safe until due time. It hadn't helped any of them. 

When only Thorin returned, he at last beheld the steel forming in her backbone, as a woman near-grown. Dis carried on. She saw the pain in her big brother and she was strong and she pleaded no more for him to remain safe, sound and in one place. Their world was harsh, now. Their world was not the safe, comfortable Erebor of her childhood. 

But she had Thorin.

And Thorin would fight, but Thorin would never leave her. Not like their father and grandfather. Not like the fine warrior she married in her bonny youth, who gave her two fine sons of Durin's line, and then died under the darts of Orcs before the younger boy could yet walk.

There was Thorin, and to Thorin she clung, even as life and little boys begged of her to be ever stronger. Wherever their people settled Dis became more lively and inventive, brighter, more jovial in the face of hardship. Thorin knew it was partly for his sake, and always for her boys. He, who'd always be mourning Erebor, and they, who deserved to grow up happy as any other lads. 

He knew she wouldn't like that he told them tales of their stolen home by birthright. And so he told the boys these stories when he took them rambling in the mountains, teaching them their way with bow and sword and axe. He filled their heads with Erebor, as Erebor filled his. 

He could not keep it a secret however, when the portents and signs named the days ripe, and he began to call up his company. Thorin would never forget her bitter tears, her sharp eyes so like his own piercing him to the heart. 

“You're taking them from me,” She gasped, clutching the rough wooden table in her home. A table so many merry meals had been eaten at, friends and family and boys who were now grown, “As Grandfather took father, and you, into those cursed mountains...”

“I came back and so will they,” He told her, harshly, setting his jaw, “They're men grown now, sister. They're coming of their own accord...”

“Of course they bloody are!” She shouted, throwing up her hands, “For all that you're the only father they've ever known, you've been hard to them, pushing them always, and they've grown to -live- for just a single smile of approval from you!” Here Dis choked, pressing her palm to her forehead for a long moment, the beads in her braids tinkling like bells, “...They'll follow you down a dragon's very throat, brother. Please...”

She was that frightened little girl again from his memory, and Thorin could only shake his head, drawing in a ragged breath and pulling his sister into his arms. “I cannot deny them their place with me, Dis, it's their birthright,” He murmured, “...But I do promise you, with my life. I will bring your sons home to you.” A brief smile, then, “Or you home to them, should we claim what is ours.”

“I'll be holding you to that,” She gasped back, clutching her big brother tight around the neck as she'd done so long ago.

Of Thorin's last thoughts in this world, chief among them was that he'd broken this promise, and there'd be no way to mend it. 

Someone else would bring Fili and Kili home, to Dis.  
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End file.
